I’m not saying that I am a poet but recently I’ve been messing about with words. Those people I’ve shown them to like what I’ve written. I’m a bit self concious of this stuff but don’t mind criticism so feel free.
He’s a hippy gumbo refugee,
From a psychedelic century,
Homeless rootless,
Involved in a fruitless,
Search for some kind of identity,
The materialist modern world,
He says it’s such a drag,
Mobile phones & i-pods,
Really aint his bag,
He don’t do modems,
Cable or satellite TV,
Or microwaves or videos,
He’s not like you & me,
He don’t do McDonalds,
Or Starbucks,
Or Burger King,
Or Subway,
Because he knows,
They all cost,
More than we can pay.